Gary's Arrival

The fire didn't spread like it does in movies. It didn't roar. It *crawled*.

It moved across the concrete floor like a living thing, feeding on the dry, brittle paper of the newspapers Elowen had thrown the lighter at. The flames were small at first, almost shy, licking at the edges of the cardboard boxes stacked against the wall. But the smoke... the smoke was immediate. Thick, black, and smelling of burnt dust and old secrets.

"Cleanse it," Elowen whispered, her eyes reflecting the growing orange glow.

She stood in front of the stairs, blocking the only exit. She wasn't looking at me. She was looking at the fire, her face serene, almost beatific. She looked like a priestess at an altar, offering up a sacrifice.

Me.

"Elowen!" I screamed, the sound tearing at my throat. "You're going to die! We're both going to die!"

She didn't flinch. She didn't move. She just watched the fire climb the curtains covering the small, high window. The fabric curled and blackened, then burst into flame, sending a shower of sparks raining down onto the water heater.

The water heater.

The one Gary had patched with duct tape.

The one that was leaking gas.

Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through the heat. If that flame touched the gas line...

I didn't think. I reacted.

I lunged for the stairs.

Elowen turned, her movements fluid and fast. She raised the gun—no, she didn't have the gun. She had thrown the lighter. Her hands were empty.

But she didn't need a weapon. She had madness.

She grabbed my arm as I tried to push past her. Her grip was like iron. She spun me around, slamming me against the wall. My head cracked against the concrete, and for a second, the world went white.

"You don't get to leave," she hissed, her face inches from mine. "You're part of the house now. You're part of the story."

I kneed her in the stomach.

She gasped, doubling over, but she didn't let go. She dragged me down with her, her nails digging into my skin. We hit the floor hard, rolling in the soot and the dirt.

The smoke was getting thicker. It was hard to breathe. My lungs burned with every gasp.

I kicked her, scrambling backward. I needed to get to the stairs.

But Elowen was relentless. She crawled after me, grabbing my ankle.

"Maya stayed!" she screamed. "Why can't you?"

"Because I'm not Maya!" I shouted, kicking her in the face.

She let go, reeling back, blood streaming from her nose.

I scrambled to my feet and ran for the stairs.

I made it to the bottom step. I grabbed the railing.

And then I saw him.

Gary.

He was standing at the top of the stairs, silhouetted against the light from the hallway. He was holding a gun.

He looked down at me, his face pale and sweaty. He looked down at the fire spreading across the basement floor.

"Gary!" I yelled. "Help me!"

He didn't move. He just stared.

"It's over, Gary!" I screamed. "The house is burning! Elowen set it on fire!"

He looked at Elowen, who was getting to her feet, wiping the blood from her face. She looked up at him and smiled.

"It's purification, Gary," she said. "It's the only way to fix the property value."

Gary raised the gun.

He aimed it at Elowen.

"You crazy bitch," he whispered.

"Gary, no!" I shouted. "The gas!"

If he fired... the spark...

*Click.*

The gun jammed.

Gary stared at it in disbelief. He pulled the trigger again.

*Click.*

Elowen laughed. It was a high, thin sound that cut through the roar of the fire.

"See?" she said. "The house protects its own."

She started up the stairs.

Gary panicked. He threw the gun at her. It missed, clattering down the steps. He turned and ran. I heard his heavy footsteps pounding down the hallway, then the slam of the back door.

He had left us. He had locked us in.

I ran up the stairs, right behind Elowen. She didn't try to stop me. She didn't even look at me. She was focused on the door at the top of the stairs.

She pushed it open.

We burst into the kitchen.

The air was clearer here, but smoke was already curling under the doorframe.

I ran for the back door. Locked. I fumbled with the deadbolt.

"It's stuck," Elowen said calmly, standing in the middle of the kitchen. She was smoothing her hair, fixing her clothes. "He jammed it from the outside."

I tried the window. Painted shut.

I grabbed a chair and smashed it against the glass.

It didn't break. It was reinforced security glass.

"I told you," Elowen said. "We're staying."

I looked at her. She was insane. Completely, utterly insane.

"I'm getting out," I said. "And you're not going to stop me."

I ran for the front door.

I heard her footsteps behind me. Slow. Deliberate.

I reached the foyer. I grabbed the handle.

Locked.

And then I saw it.

Through the narrow window next to the door.

Gary's truck was parked in the driveway. The engine was running.

He was sitting in the driver's seat. He was watching the house.

And he was smiling.

He wasn't running away. He was waiting for the fire to do its work.

"He wants the insurance money," Elowen said, coming up behind me. "He wants to start over. Without us."

She reached past me and touched the glass.

"He thinks he's clever."

"We have to get out!" I screamed, pounding on the door.

"There's a way," Elowen said.

I turned to her. "What?"

"The nursery," she said. "The window in the nursery. It's the only one he didn't reinforce. He wanted to be able to... access it."

"Access it?"

"To check on Maya," she said. "From the ladder."

I didn't wait. I ran for the stairs.

"Wait," Elowen said.

I stopped. I looked back.

She was holding something.

The gun. Gary's gun. She had picked it up from the stairs.

"You'll need this," she said.

She held it out to me.

I stared at it. "Why?"

"Because he's out there," she said. "And he's not going to let you leave."

I took the gun. It was heavy. Cold.

"What about you?" I asked.

Elowen smiled. A sad, broken smile.

"I'm going to stay with Maya," she said. "Someone has to watch the house."

She turned and walked back toward the kitchen. Toward the fire.

I ran up the stairs. The smoke was getting thicker now, billowing up from the basement. The fire alarm was shrieking.

I burst into the nursery.

The room was pristine. The white crib. The rocking chair.

I ran to the window. I unlocked it. I pushed it up.

It opened.

I looked down.

It was a twelve-foot drop to the bushes below.

And Gary was there.

He was standing on the lawn, looking up at the house. He saw the window open. He saw me.

He reached into his truck.

He pulled out a tire iron.

He walked toward the spot where I would land.

"Jump, Thea!" he shouted, grinning. "Jump!"

I looked at the gun in my hand. I had never fired a gun before.

I looked back at the nursery door. Smoke was pouring in.

I climbed onto the sill.

"Hey, Gary!" I yelled.

He looked up, raising the tire iron.

I aimed the gun.

"Smile."

I pulled the trigger.

The recoil nearly knocked me off the sill. The bullet hit the ground near his feet, kicking up dirt.

Gary jumped back, dropping the tire iron. He looked at me, shocked.

"You missed!" he yelled.

"I wasn't aiming at you," I said.

I aimed again.

At the truck. At the gas tank.

"No!" Gary screamed.

I fired.

The bullet sparked against the metal.

Nothing happened.

Of course. It wasn't a movie. Cars didn't just explode.

But Gary didn't know that.

He ran for the truck. He dove into the driver's seat. He slammed the door and threw it into reverse.

He peeled out of the driveway, speeding down the street.

He was gone.

I looked down at the bushes.

I dropped the gun.

And I jumped.

I hit the hydrangeas hard. Branches snapped. Thorns tore at my clothes.

I rolled onto the grass, gasping for air.

I was out. I was alive.

I stood up, my legs shaking.

I looked at the house.

Flames were licking out of the basement windows. Smoke was pouring from the eaves.

And in the nursery window, I saw a figure.

Elowen.

She was standing there, watching me. She waved.

Then she turned and walked away from the window. Into the smoke.

I heard a siren in the distance.

I turned to run.

But then I saw him.

Marcus.

He was standing at the edge of the yard, near the Greenbelt. He was covered in soot. He was holding his arm, like it was hurt.

"Thea!" he yelled.

I ran to him.

"You're alive!" I cried. "I thought..."

"I got out," he said, wincing. "Through the garage. Before it really got going."

He looked at the house.

"Did you get it?" he asked.

"Get what?"

"The diary," he said. "The proof."

I froze.

The diary.

I had left it in the attic.

"No," I whispered. "It's gone."

Marcus's face fell. "Then it's all for nothing. Gary gets away with it. Elowen wins."

"No," I said. "She doesn't."

I reached into my pocket.

I pulled out the receipt. The paint receipt.

And Maya's phone. The one I had found in the storage unit.

I had kept it. Even when Elowen had threatened me. Even when I ran.

"We have this," I said. "And we have Jordana."

I looked down the street. Jordana's car was racing toward us, lights flashing.

She pulled up to the curb.

"Get in!" she shouted.

We piled into the car.

As we drove away, I looked back at the house one last time.

The roof was collapsing. Sparks were flying into the night sky.

It was over. The house was gone.

But the story wasn't.

Because as the roof fell in, I saw something.

Or someone.

Walking out of the front door.

Walking through the fire.

Unharmed.

It was Gary.

He hadn't left. He had circled back.

And he was carrying something.

A small, metal box.

The one from the attic.

The one with the diary.

He looked at our car as we sped away.

And he raised the box in a salute.